


Into the Black

by coaldustcanary



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26870485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coaldustcanary/pseuds/coaldustcanary
Summary: After the War for the Dawn was won, the edge of the known universe was quiet and still.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 17
Kudos: 75
Collections: Writing Rainbow Black





	Into the Black

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Corina (CorinaLannister)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorinaLannister/gifts).



> I couldn't decide between the notion of a Vampire AU or a Space AU so I'm like...both? Both is good.

After the War for the Dawn was won, the edge of the known universe was quiet and still.

Of course, space was always quiet—even Jaime’s unnaturally keen ears could hear nothing in the vast empty vacuum of it all, far from the nearest habitable planet—so it wasn’t particularly noteworthy. Still, he reasoned, it was poetic, in its way, to imagine it so. To pretend that the stretch of space that had once been thick with the debris of spacecraft disintegrating under the bombardment of alien technology was now silent. To pretend that the the vibrations of the laboring life support systems buzzing up through the ship’s hull were far more subdued than the firing of the craft’s railguns had been, destroying the enemy fleet.

It wasn’t true, but he expected Brienne would like the notion of it. Drawing himself over the ship’s charred and dented hull, Jaime pulled himself back by the tether toward the ship’s airlock. The suit he wore was technically unnecessary, but the harness and tether were integrated into its design, and so he’d strapped it all on. Besides, without it he couldn’t communicate properly with his only remaining crewmate.

“It’s done. Nothing’s about to shake free or explode. For now.” He paused at the door, clipping his tether and holding firmly with his electromechanical right hand, freeing his left to deftly maneuver the control panel and easing himself inside.

“I’d tell you to be careful, but—”

“But, nothing, wench, I’m always careful,” he replied brightly, closing the door behind him and securing the airlock so that he could make his way back into the ship proper. A raspy, humorless laugh echoed over the comms.

“Says the idiot who drained his blood with no hope of a proper meal for—"

“You agreed,” he cut her off again without hesitation. “Pod would not have made the trip back otherwise.” Jaime rubbed vaguely at his forearm, anyway. The bite he’d made in his own arm had healed cleanly, but it still twinged, from time to time. Their most junior crewmate had taken serious wounds from knocked-free armory stores crushing his leg during the battle. When a ship capable of retreat from the front lines had offered room for one more, there’d been no question that it was Podrick who’d make the trip back with them, rather than wait on dubious rescue in a few months’ time. But to make sure that he’d survive the journey, Jaime had pressed his own blood on the boy, healing his leg to a limp and leaving him wide-eyed, somewhere between gratitude and terror.

Despite his apparent new-found nobility, he was beginning to regret not accepting the boy’s offer of a sip from his carotid artery before he boarded the ship for home. But no, he was too good for that, now, apparently. A vampire with a conscience. One with _honor_.

“ _Honor_ is a Starship Universal Alliance frigate class,” he muttered caustically, shrugging off his space suit and making his way down to the ship’s cockpit.

Brienne had folded her tall form into the pilot’s seat, watching the array of lights that indicated each of the points of weakness on their ship, _UAS Northern Lights_ , as well as every function, and the single lone dot of life support—her own.

“Well?” Jaime sprawled gracefully across the bench of fold-out seats to the side of the cramped quarters, lacing his fingers across his chest, the warmly flesh-toned of his left hand laddered with the dull metallic of his right.

“You’ve bought us four more days, it seems,” Brienne said, leaning back into the chair and rubbing at her face.

“Oh, _huzzah_ ,” he said dryly. “That gives you four days to come up with something else for me to do to keep this tin can rotating.”

“Jaime, I—”

“Or—and let me just run this by you—I could turn you, we can stop worrying about the life support and instead worry about just how hungry we’re going to get before anyone wanders back into this quadrant of space a few months from now. I mean, consider how the worst thing we’ll have to worry about besides hunger is boredom, and not death. Think of how you’ll never have to eat a packet of space dust rations again, my gods, woman—”

“No, Jaime. I won’t allow it,” Brienne replied, just as calmly as always, her gaze still fixed on the screen before her, even as she rolled up her sleeve idly, holding out her bare arm in his direction.

“In any case, you’re due. Wrist, please. The elbow is too ticklish,” she added, frowning, not looking up from her work.

With a totally theatrical sigh—he didn’t breathe, after all—Jaime bent to press his fangs into her flesh.

* * *

Seven days later, and thirty-seven days after they’d fought the last battle of the War, even Brienne had to admit that she was out of ideas. The ship’s life support systems were failing. She’d sent Jaime into the bowels of the ship to make some jury-rigged changes that had conjured another few days of effort out of the engines, but they wouldn’t last much longer. The labored rotation of the ship’s main cylindrical body was beginning to slow. The faux-gravity would stop working soon. He was heavy enough that his gait was unaffected, but it was unnerving to see Brienne, clumsy though she was off-duty, misjudge her engineering work enough to trip over a step or drop her tools due to the slowly changing G-force inside the ship.

He’d silently slipped into the ship’s kitchen to watch her methodically prepare her meal, taking the time and sparing the energy she’d lately often eschewed to brew coffee and heat up her rations properly. She ate methodically, as always, but sipped her steaming coffee with a sigh of actual pleasure. A small smile curved his lips, despite his frustration. It was good to see her happy, even if just momentarily.

“By my calculations, the life support has a day left, nearly. Twenty-two hours. But it’s fragile, and I don’t think there’s anything more I can do for it,” Brienne said solemnly, turning to fix him steadily with her big, blue eyes. Jaime blinked, opened his mouth, and closed it.

“Surely there’s—”

“It’s done. What can be done. We’ve done it, you’ve done it, and more besides,” she continued, sipping her coffee.

“I do have a favor to ask, though,” Brienne said over Jaime’s wordless noise of disagreement.

“What?” he asked, voice gratingly harsh.

“Drain me. Oxygen deprivation isn’t how I want things to end. I know you can make sure that it’s more…pleasant,” she said, hesitating before settling on the last word, and nodding to herself jerkily, her fingers tightening reflexively on her mug.

Jaime wasn’t sure what kind of expression his face showed, but her wince suggested that his impression that it was something akin to horror might not have been far off.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. _Apologized._ He used every inch of self-control he possessed to keep his fangs from sprouting in unabashed fury.

“Gods above, what are you saying? Are you out of your mind? I’m not going to eat you like a bedtime snack as some kind of…kind of _mercy kill_ , we’re going to settle in comfortably and I’m going to turn you, and we’ll ride this thing out until someone comes, whether that’s next week or next year,” Jaime said sharply.

“I don’t want to be turned,” Brienne said, her voice wavering slightly, her expression one almost of pity.

“Whyever the fuck not, wench, when the other option is death?” he snarled.

“I don’t want to live forever. I don’t want to lose the things that…that you’ve lost,” she finished abruptly, setting down her cup and crossing the kitchen to stand directly in front of him, meeting his gaze frankly with her luminous cow’s eyes, shining with sympathy.

“Please, Jaime,” she said. “I’m sorry to ask it of you. But please.” She reached behind her neck, pulling her loose, frizzy mane of blonde hair back and away from her throat, leaning in close. The natural heat of her, her skin flush with blood from the warmth of the coffee and the food she’d eaten, the warm wet brush of her breath against his cheek, and the solid press of her sturdy body against his own was too much for him to resist after weeks of meager sips. He growled and pressed his mouth against her neck, fangs just scratching at her skin as she shuddered.

_Infuriating, ridiculous woman._

“Pleasant, you said,” he groaned against her skin, mouthing the line of her jaw, moving to her own lips, just nipping at them with his teeth. Unbalanced by his sudden willingness to do as she asked, Brienne nodded, closing her eyes. Jaime hummed softly, and swiftly picked her up even as she yelped in surprise, and tumbled her back onto the table. She gasped and looked up at him in shock, even as he forced a smile and tugged her breeches off her legs in a swift, sturdy yank, ripping them at the seams.

“Femoral artery, then,” he said, low and almost purring as he lowered his head between her legs, nosing at her inner thigh, scraping with his teeth to make her shudder, and then plunging his tongue into her cunt. She was wet, of course, already; just as he’d nearly swooned into her body heat, the scrape of his fangs and his presence would have tweaked all of her adrenaline and arousal responses. It didn’t matter, though she tasted absolutely divine. He was good at this even before he’d been turned, and, well, now he didn’t have to worry about stopping to breathe, did he?

He worked her over thoroughly, metallic fingers digging bruises into her thigh, breaking off and briefly employing the fingers of his left hand to massage her clit, freeing his fangs to pattern a line of puncture wounds along the artery, taking deep drinks. She cried out with pleasure at each sweep of his tongue, each touch of his fingers, and every long draw of her blood into his throat. Her heels braced against the table, and he returned his mouth to her cunt to taste her as she came, hard and fast. Her blood was divine; but this, too, tasted like her very life, and he lapped it up hungrily.

“Jaime…” Brienne said softly, breathing hard, lifting a hand to pet at his hair feebly. Her blood burned in his veins, and he was harder than he’d ever been in his life…or unlife, for that matter.

“I’m here,” he murmured against her pale skin, pulling off the rest of her clothes with a few brief tugs, and slipping out of his own without breaking contact with her warmth. “I’m here,” he repeated, pressing his body down over hers and slipping his cock inside her with a single, deep thrust, swallowing her groan with his own mouth. Her hands ghosted over his arms and shoulders, falling back down to the table to lie above her head as he fucked her slowly, sinking his fangs into her neck and drinking deep. Half-dreaming from the pleasure of the bite, half drifting into unconsciousness from blood loss, Brienne still came, spasming tightly around him, as he bit into her once more, a tripping, gasping cry coming from her lips.

Vibrant color in his cheeks and flush with her blood, he pulled out of her slowly, watching her chest rise and fall, in slow, hitching breaths for the space of a few seconds. Her eyes moved behind her eyelids, dreaming, somewhere else, even as he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“I’ve lost many things, you’re right. But not you. Not yet.” He bit his own arm and slowly wedged the wound between her lips as the blood began to flow. Brienne's eyes fluttered and she frowned, whimpering softly.

"Drink," Jaime whispered. "You can kill me for this later, if you like."


End file.
